Old Memories and New Polish
by RedPistachio
Summary: Usually, General Grumman would tell him tales of war, or about what last years new recruits had asked form never before had Mustang heard about the old mans family. Slight royai if you squint.


CHaracters: Grumman, Hawkeye, Mustang, Mentions: Unnamed mother, Berthold Hawkeye Time

Period: right after Ed becomes a state Alchemist.

Summary: Usually, General Grumman would tell him tales of war, or about what last years new recruits had asked form never before had Mustang heard about the old mans family. Slight royai if you squint.

AN: a short little something I did. Please r&r if you'd be so kind.

* * *

"Good afternoon, sir." Roy Mustang greeted his commander, giving the man an informal salute before breaking into a smile.

The wry haired General glanced up with his own buck tooth grin, using the old wooden desk to push himself up. "Afternoon, Colonel. Hows the new rank treating you?"

It was a scheduled thing, their meetings every Tuesday at 11:00 hundred hours each week, besides a game of chess was much more fun than a boring meeting with notes and things of the such.

"Fits like a glove." Mustang said with a smirk and a lazy shrug, shoving his hands into his pockets, which made the heavy canvas buttskirt crinkle oddly. "Now I'm ready for a new rank."

"Ahoh! If I didn't know you wanted to get into Central so badly I'd say you were after my job!" Grumman laughed, waggling a finger at him, though the twinkle in his eye and the wink offset the hand gesture. "Well you know where the chess board is, Colonel."

Mustang gave a deep chuckle, taking a few paces to one of the old wooden set of drawers by the window. "You know sir, you could ask to get upgrades on these." He said, the door to the cupboard squeaking as he opened it. "With your rank you could get a nice new set of oak furniture."

Pulling out a good sized chess board that practically gleamed in comparison to its holder, Mustang turned to the elder man, the cupboard door closing with a squeak.

"A young man like you might find this hard to believe, but I actually quite prefer the old things." The General replied, clearing away a few loose papers for Roy to place the board.

"Oh?" Mustang started to set up his pieces, and across the desk Grumman did the same. "Forgive me, but I can't imagine why."

Grumman gave a small smile, uprighting the black queen which had been turned over by a sleeve in favour of placing a pawn. "Well wanting new things broke my marriage apart."

Mustang paused, his own pawn held just above the board in his first move. The General hadn't often spoken of his personal life in these meetings. Personally speaking, the old man was practically a stranger to him. He settled the pawn down as the old fox continued his lament.

"I was young and impressionable, every new woman who gave me a glance soon became the love of my life." He chuckled again. "Much like you it sounds. But obviously the real love of my life, my wife, didn't appreciate it. When our daughter was two she left me, took our little girl with her."

Mustang moved another pawn onto the field as he frowned at the General. He wasn't quite sure what to make of the man, Grumman telling this story was far different from Grumman asking for a report. "Of course I didn't realize my loss until much later, but my wife wouldn't hear for it, and my little girl had grown up a bit. She didn't really have a dad, more of an estranged father who walked her down the aisle. I'm surprised she even invited me." The old man smiled sadly at the wistful memory. It was one of the only ones he really had with his daughter, she had died too young, and he had been too stupid. "But she and her new husband moved down south and a few years later she passed away from pneumonia. I couldn't even fully repair my relationship with my daughter before it was too late."

Now Mustang was full uncomfortable, though his face did a good job in hiding it. How could the old man think he wanted to hear this?

"She left me a granddaughter of course, but after a while my son-in-law forbid me from seeing her. I doubt he even gave her the letters I wrote." The lines in Grumman's old face darkened. "And when Berthold died, she didn't even remember me. I wasn't even informed until about three weeks after the funeral, and my granddaughter had already enlisted."

"Berthold, sir?" Mustangs ears perked up at the unusual name, moving a bishop to take one of Grummans rooks. "As in Berthold Hawkeye?"

Grumman glanced up, his eyes full of unshed tears. "My son-in-law, yes. Of course I couldn't very well go up to my granddaughter in the academy anymore, it wouldn't be fair to put that pressure on her." He gave a small gesture to his decorated award on the back shelf. "So she still doesn't know."

"But that would make Lieutenant Hawkeye your.." Mustang trailed off the gears whirling and pieces clicking together in his mind.

"She is the only family this old man has left." Grumman said softly, taking out one of Mustangs knights. "And I won't live to see her funeral, do you understand?"

Roy swallowed, still shocked at the new information. Setting a determined look on his face in place of the surprised one he was sure he had been wearing, the Colonel replied, "Of course sir. And Lieutenant Hawkeye? She doesn't know anything about this?"

"No." The look the old General gave him might once have been pained frustration, but was now more resigned, "And I'd prefer to keep it that way."

"I think she has a right to know, sir, I'm not sure I feel comfortable with not telling her." Mustang replied with a frown, capturing another pawn.

"I've lived a long life, Colonel, I don't get to live that much longer. I've missed all my chances to tell her, telling her now would be more of a burden than a bliss. Knowing her, she'd take it upon herself to take care of this frail old fart when my time does come, and I'd really rather she didn't." Grumman replied seriously, his next move drawing Roy's eyes down to the chess board. The old fox had his queen surrounded, but had left the black king defenceless to Roy's bishop.

This was one win Mustang didn't count.

* * *

"Are you okay sir?" His ever stoic Lieutenants voice caught him, even though he had spent the last three minutes staring intently at her.

He still wasn't comfortable with not telling Hawkeye about Grumman, she would want to know something like that.

Giving his head a little shake, and brining up a hand to scratch his always messy hair, Mustang sighed. "Just tired, Central sure loves shoving a lot of paperwork our way."

"I feel the exact same way about you, sir." Was the General's daughter's dry remark.


End file.
